


It Took Too Long

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Stanford Era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-14
Updated: 2016-02-14
Packaged: 2018-05-20 13:37:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6008254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean realized, six months after Sam left for Stanford, that he'd made a big mistake not begging him to stay. So, he goes to Stanford, determined to tell Sam the truth.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It Took Too Long

It took Dean six months to figure out what was wrong after Sam left for Stanford. When it hit him, he ran away from his dad. He went straight to Palo Alto and stood in the campus square like an idiot, searching for his gawky little brother.

He did this for three days before he began to panic. Where was Sam? Did he lie about college? Did he get taken?

Dean went to the registrar, barely able to get the words out, searching for his brother. The girl was nice, and cute, and he knew she was flirting with him, but the only resonance in his brain was Sam. Sammy. Sam safe. Sam home. Nothing else mattered.

 

Dean nearly sprinted to the address the girl had given him, pounding on the door.

Dean did a double take at the tall drink of water that pulled open the dorm door. "Sam!?" He squeaked, shocked. His brother, his beautiful baby brother, now taller than him, a healthy glow to his cheeks, rather than the pallid sheen that had filled their childhood. Dean barely recognized him.

"D--Dean? What're you doing here? Is Dad okay?" Sam asked, his wide form blocking Dean's view of the room.

Dean opened his mouth, but realized he had no idea what to say now that he was actually standing in front of his not so little brother. "I-- Sammy, we gotta talk." He finally whispered.

"Yeah, yeah. One second." Sam stepped back into the room, leaving the door open. He went to a group of four people, talking quietly to them. They all looked at Dean, who smiled guiltily.

Sam motioned Dean into the room and opened another door, obviously his bedroom. Dean entered and leaned on the wall. "Nice digs."

"I share with another guy across the common room."

"He nice?"

"Yeah. Physics major."

"Wow, smart... Bet you two really hit it off." Dean mumbled, looking at his feet.

"Why are you here, Dean?" Sam asked finally, crossing his arms. "I'm not going back."

"I don't want you to. No, you're better than that. But uh..." Dean sighed, staring at his boots. "I came to a realization and I uh... I gotta be honest."

"Okay..." Sam sat on the bed, watching Dean shift.

Dean looked up, his eyes wet, surprising Sam. "I love you, Sammy."

Sam laughed. "I love you too, Dean, what does that--"

"No! No. I'm. IN love with you." Dean corrected, his cheeks burning.

Sam laughed again, but it died in his throat when he saw Dean's face. "What are you talking about, Dean?"

The older Winchester sighed. "I-- Damnit." He stepped forward and grabbed Sam's face, mashing their lips together.

Sam squeaked, jumping back from Dean. "Dean!" He cried, touching his lips. Dean sighed and hung his head. "I'm sorry, Sam."

"What the hell has gotten into you?" Sam asked. Dean looked up at him. "I... When you left I felt like something was wrong, but I didn't understand it, not until last week. You're my brother, but you're more than that. You're the love of my friggin' life, Sam. I know that sounds sissy and stupid but-- I know it's true. Kissing you just proved it to me. And I know it's wrong and gross and I'm sorry, I just needed you to know."

"De, stop talking." Sam raised a hand. "It's not wrong. It's... We've got such a screwed up life, and we're all we've ever had. It makes sense."

"So you... Don't hate me?" Sam laughed. "I could never hate you, Dean. In fact, I know what you mean. I've fantasized about you since I hit puberty."

Dean's head snapped up. "What?"

"Yeah... But, how will this work? I'm not leaving Stanford, Dean."

"No, I don't want you to. Why don't we... I have no idea." Dean admitted after a second.

 

Both boys stayed silent, thinking, then Sam grinned. "I got an idea." He said, pulling Dean toward him to talk.

 

So, once a month, for a week, Dean ran away from his father, and into the arms (and eventually bed), of his little brother.


End file.
